A Story for Dairve
by Starshadow
Summary: Set in my Shadow Skill/Fort Lyvalle alternate universe, where Crimson is married to Shavra, the Lady Holder. Their son Dairve asks for a bedtime story, in which Crimson discovers some interesting things about his wife.
1. Chapter 1

Title:A Story for Dairve - 1

Type:Shadow Skill alternate universe. Humorous and safe for children to read...chuckle

Disclaimers:All Shadow Skill characters appearing are the creations and rightful property of Okada-sensei. The Fort Ly'valle characters are mine.

Author's Notes:This little idea bubbled up as the solution to a story concept involving a much-younger Lady Holder, Scarface and Crimson - I was in the mood to portray Scar-sama as something more than a cold, ruthless and manipulative being.

=-=-=-=-=--=

"Mama, tell me a story...please?"

Lustrous eyes of pure amethyst lovingly regarded the child who had posed the question, traces of amusement lurking in their violet depths. He stood before her, fresh from his evening bath, pink-cheeked and clutching the stuffed toy rabbit received on his last birthday. Dark brown hair, streaked into copper by exposure to the sun, fell into an unruly mop about his fine features; a small hand reached up to brush aside the bangs fringing eyes that were living green fires in his freckled face.

The eyes wore a pleading expression now, as the little one repeated his question. He could usually count on his mother to tell him a story before tucking him into bed at night. She would come into his room, long silver hair glowing pink in the firelight, to read in her sweet, low voice from Kuruda's history, or spin tales of the sevalles she and his father had known. Lying against his pillows, he would listen with rapt attention until the last words faded away, and then receive a hug and a kiss before obediently settling down to sleep.

The boy approached his mother hesitantly, aware that she was dressed and perfumed for a trip to the Kuruda palace royal. Her silvery hair was coiffed in elegant curls, with ribbons of cobalt blue running through them. A silken gown of the same cobalt blue clung to her slender figure, falling to her ankles, a belt of silver emphasizing a waist that had retained its measure even after childbirth. Around her neck was the chain of gold with its ruby and sapphire pendant that his father had presented to her on the child's naming day, the colors flashing brilliant against her white skin.

"Come here, poppet," said the young mother, extending an arm towards her first-born son to draw him close. "What kind of story would you like to hear?"

"We'll be late for the gathering," came a voice from the door, and the boy turned to regard his father standing there. A tall man, with blazing red hair and eyes as blue as the depths of Kuruda's lake, who smiled down at his wife and son. He was an impressive sight, dressed in full Court regalia, sevalle cloak heavy on his shoulders, wearing the long silver sword that marked his status as Raze Reme of Kuruda -- a rare combination. That a man could master the Kuruda Style Annihilation techniques *and* channel the power of life-giving Souma, carrying the power of life and death in his hands, was an awesome thing.

A soft chuckle escaped the mother as she cuddled her son and pressed a kiss to his brow. "I have no doubt that we will miss some little part of the festivities, my beloved lord sevalle. But His Majesty will understand. After all, did he not hold our son in his arms during the naming ceremony?"

"That he did," agreed the father, settling himself down in a chair, the better to admire the sight of the two most important people in his life. "You had best tell the lad his story then, my love. And you, young man, will march straight to bed afterwards, is that clear?"

"Yes, Papa," nodded the boy with a winsome smile, his green eyes alight. In that moment, the father's heart caught painfully, remembering another smile and another pair of green eyes -- a love sacrificed, a body now kept in the frozen void of darkness. The mother's eyes mirrored the flash of pain in her husband's, for she too remembered a loyalty and devotion that defied death itself.

But the moment was gone as soon as it had arrived, broken by the child's stirring as his mother pulled him into her lap, heedless of the creases that might show up on her dress. Her loving arms wrapped around him, and she asked once again, "What kind of story shall you have then, poppet?"

"Ummm..." the child's brow creased momentarily and then he beamed first at his father, then his mother. "Tell me the funny one, about how Uncle Scarface found you in the tree."

The young mother burst into laughter as she met her husband's bewildered cobalt gaze.

"Scarface found you in a tree?" he asked, and she nodded, amethyst eyes filled with mirth.

"It was a long time ago, my darling," came the merry answer, the endearment addressed to both son and husband. "A very long time ago, in the palace royal of Kuruda, when I was about twelve or thirteen summers old..."

end part one 


	2. Chapter 2

Title:A Story for Dairve - 2

Disclaimers:As stated in Chapter 1

Author's Notes:In which we meet the venerable Holmard, tutor to the Lady Shavra -- and of how her studies are interrupted most unexpectedly...

=-=-=-=-=--=

A loud sigh echoed across the schoolroom.

The venerable tutor Holmard looked up with green eyes that gleamed sharply despite his three score and ten years, and his bushy grey brows slammed together in an expression of mild irritation. For many a year it had been his responsibility to oversee the education of various children resident in Kuruda's palace royal -- to make sure they knew their ciphering and figures, and as much of Kuruda's rich warrior history as he could drum into their heads.

Strangers to the palace were easily forgiven if they mistook the elderly tutor for a sevalle, or even a royal minister; Holmard was easily six foot and some inches, able to look King Iba Stola in the eye without flinching. Despite that, the children could see easily beneath his formal demeanor to the kindness and patience that made their lessons worth the hours of study he demanded from them. Among themselves, the children agreed that some teachers were to be feared and others trodden upon -- but Holmard was a man to be respected, and woe unto you if you were caught slacking purposefully in your lessons!

Holmard's gaze fell upon the other occupant of the room, and his irritation faded somewhat. Three years before, he had been given the responsibility for educating the Lady Holder of Fort Ly'valle, ward of King Iba Stola. She had entered his presence as a solemn child of nine, her eyes of deep amethyst haunted by the manner in which her world had been turned upside down by her treacherous uncle Sethor, now the self-proclaimed Lord of Fort Ly'valle, despite the fact that his late brother Avedon had a child still living.

Not sure what to expect from his new pupil, Holmard watched Shavra carefully over the next few days. He discovered that she loved reading, was adequate in ciphering...and her deportment was chillingly polite for a child of her tender years. It was impossible -- nay, unnatural -- for a youngling to behave as an adult in miniature. Children were indulged creatures in the palace royal, and in-between their chores, could be found laughing and running games of tag through the less-public corridors; falling out of trees into the rivers and lakes of the royal grounds; snatching provisions from the palace kitchens for impromptu picnics.

But Shavra preferred to keep her distance in those early weeks, staying close to Livana, the motherly woman whom the King had assigned as her nurse, whenever they had to be out of her suite. Not until a warm spring morning, when Holmard had chanced upon his students gathered in a knot about two muddy figures locked in combat -- a not unusual sight. But the sight of the silver-gilt hair and fierce amethyst eyes shining beneath a layer of mud shocked him into the realization that the Lady Holder of Fort Ly'valle was behaving as badly as an angry fishwife...moreover, she was winning against an opponent both older and taller than herself.

Upon separating the combatants, Holmard was hard put to hide a smile at the verbal gauntlet thrown by Shavra: "If you could fight half as well as you boast, Nazir, I wouldn't mind losing to you...maybe..."

Holmard never found out what led up to the fight. But it resulted in Shavra's becoming one with the pack, as it were, and from that day forward, she began to behave like a normal child -- laughing out her window at shouted greetings (even in the middle of lessons), accepting invitations for adventures from which she returned dirty and hungry and thoroughly content. Her lessons improved, and Holmard knew he was proud of her quick intelligence in a way that he had never been with former pupils.

Watching her now, Holmard's brows settled back into their normal position, and he sighed himself, this time at the promise of loveliness inherent in the Lady Holder's coltish figure. His voice, however, was stern as he addressed the dreamy-eyed young girl staring out the window, out over the palace walls at the Kuruda countryside.

"Hey, hey, girl," he growled, bringing the violet eyes instantly up to his in repentance. "Here I've just given the King a glowing progress report on how well you apply yourself to your books! Your sigh bids fair to blow that tapestry off the wall."

"Your pardon, Master Holmard," came the meek apology, delivered in a suitably appropriate voice. "But I fear me that my mind would much rather be elsewhere on such a beautiful morning."

"That's plain enough. Do you suddenly find Kuruda's history so boring, then?"

"Only when studying it in the four walls of the schoolroom," she replied pertly, eyes dancing with mirth, then suddenly pleading. "Would it be so wrong if I were to finish my reading assignment outside? A day such as this was surely blessed by Souma and meant to be spent outdoors."

"My dear Lady Holder..." Holmard began to remonstrate, his voice fading at the earnest expression in his student's face, almost bordering on a pout. Suddenly he capitulated, the sharp contrast between the life in her face and its ice-cold expression of her early days hitting home. "Ahhhh...so be it, My Lady. You may take your books and enjoy yourself in the palace gardens."

"Really? Truly?" Shavra jumped to her feet in total abandon and clapped her hands in delight. "You are the most wonderful of tutors, Master Holmard, and I promise..."

"Hush, girl, not a word!" A sudden smile broke out over Holmard's face, traveling upwards so that his green eyes twinkled. "Get you gone -- and maybe I'll have some of that fresh air myself. Good for the health, and all that. But mind you study, My Lady, for I'll give you no quarter tomorrow."

"Thank you! Thank you!" cried Shavra, gathering her books in a fever of haste and only barely remembering to bob a respectful curtsy to her tutor, whose deep, seldom-heard chuckles followed her out the door.

She tore down the palace corridors, a streak of silver lightning with books in hand, not stopping to draw breath until she reached the side door leading into the royal pleasaunce -- the private garden reserved for the royal family. Pushing aside the heavy oaken door, she stuck her head beyond it to breathe deeply of the fresh air, redolent with the scent of flowers and spicy woods. With a soft cry of pleasure, she moved more sedately over the gravel walk, stopping now and again to admire the view or brush her fingers against newly-bloomed flowers.

It was a matter of minutes before her progress brought her to her destination, an ancient shade tree set near one corner of the garden. A swinging chair hung suspended from one of its sturdy branches, while a heavy semi-circular bench traced the outline of the great trunk. Shavra scanned the garden in all directions, then, satisfied that she was alone, lightly stepped up onto the bench. Reaching upwards, she balanced her books on one of the upper branches, and then with the ease of experience, pulled herself up into the first fork of the tree. From there, it was a simple matter to move to her favorite spot -- a natural cradle formed by the thick branches, where she could lean back and relax, hidden from the view of careless eyes. Her position also gave an unobstructed view of the swing below and to her right, and if she so chose, a vantage point over the palace walls to where Kuruda Lake could be seen glinting blue beneath the sun.

Time flew quickly in such peaceful surroundings, as the soft wind whispered through the leaves and teased gently at the silver-gilt hair. Shavra had just finished one assignment and was ready to take a break before beginning the next, when the sound of murmuring voices floated across to her from the edge of the garden.

Shavra bit her lip in mild chagrin, hastily but carefully tucking the books into a secure spot in the branches above her. Wouldn't you know it, she thought, cocking her head to listen more clearly to the voices, now accompanied by the slow crunching sound of feet on the gravel path. Two speakers, she realized, sitting with every muscle alert. A man and a woman...

Shavra's heart thudded in her chest as she finally recognized the voices, and she took a deep gulping breath of air. The smoky voice as smooth as fine wine could belong only to one man. While the lilting female voice was owned by the one woman Shavra would have pawned her very honor to avoid at that precise moment.

"Oh, sweet Souma," she prayed, "Help me..."

end part two 


	3. Chapter 3

Title:A Story for Dairve - 3

Disclaimers:As stated in Chapter 1.

Author's Notes:In which we are introduced to the Lady Holder's nemesis, the Lady Ravella Unaeri...

=-=-=-=-=-=

At this point, Dairve bounced happily in his mother's lap, green eyes alive with anticipation.

"Oooh, Papa, this is the best part," he said, twisting about so he could get a better view of his father. "Guess who Mama saw!"

Crimson's cobalt eyes met Shavra's amethyst ones over the little boy's head, noting with loving amusement the high color that stained his wife's cheeks. With a chuckle he replied, turning his blue gaze on the boy, "I think I know, Dairve. But shall we let your mother tell the story?"

Dairve crowed happily, nodding his head vigorously. Shavra gave her son a gentle squeeze and resumed her story, amethyst eyes dancing at the memories.

"Sit still, Dairve, love...now, where was I? Ah, yes. There I was, stuck in that tree..."

=-=-=-=-=-=

Shavra bit her lip in chagrin. Rising to her feet, she crossed lightly from branch to branch to the side of the tree giving the best vantage point over the path which the speakers were taking. Anyone who had chanced to look up at that moment would have thought the spirit of the shade tree had chosen to manifest itself as a slender girl with silver-gilt hair, amethyst eyes watchfully peering through the green leaves.

Before long, the speakers came clearly into view, and Shavra's heart sank as her suspicions were confirmed. Gleaming in the sunlight was the titian hair of the Lord Kai Sink, known as Crimson, the 56th sevalle of Kuruda; also known as the Raze Reme Silver Sword, her tutor in the ways of swordcraft. His teeth flashed white against his tanned face, blue eyes sparkling down in amusement at a remark recently-made by the olive-skinned beauty at his side.

Shavra's violet eyes narrowed as she recognized the fine figure of the Lady Ravella Unaeri clinging possessively to Crimson's arm. Four years older than Shavra, Lady Ravella had dark eyes and hair that made black silk look insipid by comparison. Try as she might, the young Lady Holder could never find it in herself to be more than civil to the heiress of one of Juliannes' oldest families. Merely being in the same room with her set Shavra's teeth on edge, and she made it a point to avoid the older girl as much as possible.

"I cannot like her," Shavra had sighed to Livana once. The Lady Holder had spent a tense evening at the Court function welcoming the Unaeri family to Kuruda, returning to her suite with pink cheeks and eyes moist with angry tears. "The moment she comes into my presence, I feel like a country bumpkin, clumsy and awkward."

"Oh?" questioned the nurse, engaged in the task of brushing out her young charge's hair from its formal coiffure. Shavra sighed and looked down at her figure, which seemed to be composed purely of straight lines.

"You should have seen what she was wearing tonight..."

Livana snorted in a most undignified but extremely expressive manner. "It takes more than a well-endowed figure and fine clothes to make a lady, sweetling. There are things like good manners, intelligence and a loving heart to take into account."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," replied Shavra, turning suddenly to hug her nurse. "Oh, Livana..."

"There, there, poppet," soothed Livana, stroking the shining silver hair with gentle fingers as Shavra released long-held tears. After her young charge calmed, sniffling shamefacedly, the kindly nurse inquired softly, "What did Ravella say, to upset you so?"

Shavra wiped her eyes with the handkerchief Livana handed over. "She made it abundantly clear that it was unseemly for the Lady Holder of Fort Ly'valle to be seen running about Kuruda like a tomboy, in the company of sevalles."

"By Court standards, sweetling, you enjoy the outdoor life far more than is considered proper for a young lady of rank. But then again -- " Livana's eyes sparkled mischievously, " -- no young lady of rank has ever been accepted as a pupil of the Lord Kai Sink before."

Shavra refused to be comforted. "She also said...that it was a merciful thing my mother, a Lady of Light, could not see the disgrace I have become to the Solaris family."

Livana's eyes sparkled again, but not with mischief this time, and she drew in a long breath to calm herself. After expelling it in a long sigh, she answered, "Never tell me that you believe such a ridiculous statement."

"Of course not. But...Ravella has the special gift of making me feel...small. To say that, to me, in front of the Court ladies!" Shavra's chin set in a determined line inherited from her late father. "The merciful thing is that I was in Court dress, without so much as a dagger in my hand; and even more fortunate was that she was hanging onto the arm of the Lord Kai Sink as well."

"Did he have nothing to say to such an arrant piece of nonsense?" asked Livana, resuming her brushing-out of Shavra's silver hair. Shavra's amethyst eyes grew rebellious at the memory.

"He gave me that bland 'this-is-not-the-place' look which I must needs obey or seem the rude girl Ravella made me out to be. Then he proceeded to charm the Lady Ravella into giggles. His reputation as a womanizer is well-deserved."

"Shavra Ly'valle!" breathed Livana in laughing reproof. "Now *that* is a remark unworthy of a Daughter of Light! You'll just have to keep out of harm's way as best you can, till Lady Ravella returns to Juliannes with her family..."

Until that moment, reflected Shavra wryly, "keeping out of harm's way" had been an easy task. Her knowledge of life in the palace royal helped in keeping her life separate from any occasion where she might meet the Lady Ravella. But now, by sheerest mischance, here she was, caught in a situation where only a miracle of Souma be of any help to her now.

The couple's destination was unmistakeable: the very tree from which she was observing them. To stay hidden meant becoming an unwilling witness to the mutual flirtation -- and perhaps more -- that would soon follow. To climb down now, however, meant providing more fuel to Ravella's snide remarks at the next Court function; something Shavra was equally determined to avoid.

Already Crimson was settling Lady Ravella into the swing. Shavra inched along the branch on which she was perched, melting into the dappled shadows cast by the leaves. Once again, an urgent prayer was lifted up to the morning sky: "Mama...send me a miracle, please..."

end part three 


	4. Chapter 4

Title:A Story for Dairve - 4

Disclaimers:As stated in Chapter 1.

Author's Notes:In which the 57th sevalle, Scarface Vy Low, finds himself involved in the Lady Holder's predicament...

=-=-=-=-=-=

King Iba Stola's dark eyes glinted as he entered his private audience chamber, taking in the measure of its sole occupant. Despite, or perhaps because of, his fourscore years, the King presented an impressive figure. His lean, muscled body was a fit as the day he had been proclaimed the 55th sevalle of Kuruda, advancing from there to the position of High Sevalle and eventually to that of the kingship. He had fought and defeated many men in both single combat and as a leader of troops in the field. Very few men had come to within a draw when pitted against the Hawk Eye.

Only two had bested him in combat. One was the Lord Kai Sink, who, before entering into his powers as Kuruda's Raze Reme, captured the title of Crimson, the 56th sevalle. The other was the darkly handsome young man who stood before him now, his stance just barely short of pure arrogance before the King.

Kuruda's High Sevalle, 57th of that line, Scarface Vy Low, met the King's gaze with the confidence of a man sure of his place in the world. The King's reputation as a fighter was already the stuff of Kuruda legend when Scarface -- then but a lad of sixteen -- captured the coveted sevalle title by defeating the King in fair combat. Having done so, he then proceeded to become the terror of Kuruda's enemies, entering into a formidable partnership with Crimson, Dias Ragu, and Kain Phalanx.

"Greetings, Your Majesty." Scarface acknowledged the King's presence with a slight bow. "I arrived as soon as I could."

The King acknowledged Scarface's respectful greeting with a small grunt. "I seem to recall having sent for Crimson Kai Sink to be present as well. Has he not arrived?"

"Majesty, I am unaware of his whereabouts at the current moment." Which was, reflected Scarface wryly, not quite the truth, but not entirely a lie. For he *had* seen Crimson in the great hall not half an hour before, arm-in-arm with the Lady Ravella Unaeri, the pair apparently heading for the palace gardens. However, knowing his friend's decided preference for female company, Scarface had chosen to leave them to their own devices...the King's mildly irritated voice kept a smile from crossing Scarface's lips just in the nick of time.

"Hn," said the King, investing the syllable with a richness of expression that told Scarface the King's thoughts closely paralleled his own. A conjecture immediately confirmed when His Majesty said, "He has been dancing attendance on the Unaeri heiress of late. The girl is charming enough, I dare say, but I am not overly enamoured of her mother's obvious machinations to land a splendid match for her daughter. Be thankful that you are contracted to marry young Faulstis..."

Scarface chuckled wickedly, his cinnamon eyes sparkling with mirth at the thought of his betrothed. In two years, Faulstis, daughter of the Regent of Juliannes, would complete her training as a Holy Knight and their marriage would be celebrated directly after her investiture. His voice filled with unconcealed teasing, he said, "Souma preserve His Majesty from matchmaking mothers..."

The King made a sign of warding in the air, and the two men suddenly laughed. After the moment passed, the King nodded to Scarface.

"It's all very well and good to laugh. But Crimson must be present for our discussion. The border patrols report that Sulouthan grows restive, and I would have you both check out the situation."

"I thought I saw where he was heading, Your Majesty. With your leave, I'll go find him and we shall attend you at your leisure."

"Do that. When you do manage to extricate Kuruda's most notorious rake from his present occupation..." the two men, King and High Sevalle, shared a conspiratorial chuckle, "I will be found in my private study."

Scarface nodded, and waited until the King left the audience chamber before turning to the bay window overlooking the King's pleasaunce. It would not be the first time Crimson had used the lovely garden for his amorous pursuits, usually conducted in the welcoming shade of the ancient tree that presided over the flowerbeds. Scarface scanned the garden, and felt smug satisfaction overtake him as he spotted the 56th sevalle pushing the swing where Lady Ravella was seated.

A flash of silver in the leaves above the couple caught his eye, and cinnamon eyes narrowed as Scarface realized someone was observing the scene from an incredibly close vantage point.

"What the devil...?"

Another flash of silver-gilt, startling against the green, and a slender hand, clutching a branch for support. A short laugh escaped the 57th sevalle despite himself, as recognition came swiftly. Stupid of him not to have made the connection sooner, he thought, striding swiftly down the hallway. Only one person in all of Kuruda had hair that was the color of the sun at noon; only one person wore a bracelet fashioned from the same steel that made up Dias Ragu's famous Black Wing; above all, only one person could get herself well and truly caught in a tree while her swordmaster and her sworn nemesis conducted a flirtation right below her.

"My dear Lady Holder, you've really done it now, haven't you?" he chuckled roundly to himself, making quick progress to the pleasaunce. He was well aware that there was no love lost between Shavra and Lady Ravella; Shavra had sighed out the story to him when he had come to see her after his last trip to Juliannes, bearing letters from Faulstis and the Princess Lilivelt. He was also aware that only Shavra's desire to stay within the good graces of Crimson and the King kept her silent in the face of the many feminine snubs Lady Ravella had sent her way.

Scarface slowed his steps as he approached the door leading to the pleasaunce, thinking of a way to extract Shavra from the tree without Crimson or Lady Ravella being none the wiser. Given that the King wanted to see both sevalles *soonest*, the most expedient method, certainly, would be to coolly inform the couple of the fact and haul Crimson away.

However...Scarface snorted in dry amusement as he pushed the door open. That course of action would leave Lady Ravella under the tree for an indeterminate amount of time, should she announce her desire to wait for Crimson there. If Shavra, as he suspected, had been trapped while studying in the branches of the tree, all it would take would be an sudden breeze to tumble down her books, an errant sneeze or upward-looking eyes at the wrong moment; then all would be lost.

A tricky situation, indeed.

end part four 


	5. Chapter 5

Title:A Story for Dairve - 5

Disclaimers:As stated in Chapter 1.

Author's Notes:In which tempers are kept firmly in control, but just barely...

=-=-=-=-=-=

Shavra forced her breathing to even itself out as she wedged herself into the fork of the tree, feeling its rough bark against her back through the light cotton of her dress. Her pounding heart slowed as she felt the current of Souma flowing through the ancient tree enter her troubled soul, soothing it with warm reassurance.

The bell-like sound of Lady Ravella's laughter returned her to awareness of her surroundings, and from her vantage point, Shavra could see that the other girl's generously-cut gown offered Crimson an enviable view of Lady Ravella's bosom.

"I had never thought to enjoy myself so much in Kuruda," she was saying, as Crimson gently pushed the swing with one hand. "The way Father described it, I thought the royal court would be like a barracks...all full of soldiers."

Crimson chuckled softly, blue eyes twinkling. "Quite different from your home in Ashlianna, to be sure. I am glad that your stay has proven pleasant so far."

"More than pleasant!" exclaimed Lady Ravella, her dark eyes flashing merrily into Crimson's blue gaze. "Due in no small part to your kind attention, my lord sevalle."

In the upper branches, Shavra wrinkled her nose at the false honey in Lady Ravella's voice, and mentally began to bespeak the tree, for lack of anyone human to listen to her opinions.

//Indeed. So kind and gallant is my lord sevalle that he has added no new exercise patterns to my training; nor has he come to measure my progress in the fortnight he has been escorting you about the country.//

"The pleasure is mine, my lady. You are delightful company in this martial atmosphere we keep here in the kingdom."

//Ha! If you've said that once, you've said that any number of times, and always to a different woman.//

Despite her rebellious exasperation, Shavra had to smile at the memory of her swordmaster's various romantic escapades; indeed, some of the more enterprising women had sought to gain the young Lady Holder's goodwill in furthering their cause with one of Kuruda's most eligible bachelors. In vain did Shavra protest that Crimson was very much his own man, and hardly likely to listen to his student, a girl barely into her teens! Amethyst eyes twinkled at the thought, and she sighed softly, the sound mingling with the sudden rustle of the leaves surrounding her.

Lady Ravella's delighted laugh at Crimson's gallant answer brought Shavra's attention back to ground level. The young heiress was saying, "It is well-known that you do not lack for delightful company in Kuruda, my lord sevalle. Or elsewhere, for that matter. Your reputation has reached as far as the Holy City of Juliannes."

//*That* I can believe.//

"Indeed?"

"You need not bother to deny it, my lord," said Lady Ravella boldly. "Kuruda's Raze Reme is spoken of with utmost respect as a master of the power of Souma...and...much more."

Shavra closed her eyes and pressed herself back even more against the welcome support of the tree and its branches. Her cheeks were hot with embarrassment. If only she could melt into the tree and become deaf to what was going on! Young though she was, Shavra knew the meaning of the sudden huskiness in Lady Ravella's voice. It was a tone employed by certain Court ladies when addressing the sevalles; one that subtly offered the promise of physical delights to the man in question.

"Do not be quick to give credence to all that you hear, my lady," murmured Crimson, his voice full of humor. Shavra heard Lady Ravella make a sound of disbelief, then felt her blood run cold at the older girl's next sentence.

"I have also heard that Shavra Ly'valle occupies much of your waking hours, my lord sevalle."

A small pause ensued after that statement, and it was well for the Lady Ravella that her head was turned in the direction of the magnificent bed of roses. Crimson's cobalt blue eyes suddenly assumed a bland expression that Shavra, had *her* own eyes been open, would have recognized instantly as a polite warning.

"The Lady Holder," replied Crimson softly, laying an imperceptible emphasis on Shavra's title, "is my student in swordcraft. An art that demands a great deal of skill and patience, both on the part of student and teacher. Of necessity, we do indeed spend much time together."

If the Lady Ravella heard the warning note in Crimson's voice, she chose to disregard it. Her next question made Shavra's eyes fly open in furious indignation, and it was all the young Lady Holder could do to keep her temper - and her voice - in check.

"Of course," purred Ravella sweetly. "But naturally you are aware that there are those who believe there is more to your relationship than that. It is said you are waiting for little Shavra to grow up, before giving her lessons in a very different subject altogether."

Shavra's amethyst eyes sparkled fiercely in outrage, and it was all she could do to keep the roiling emotions inside her under control. She could feel the rough bark of the tree biting into her skin as her slender fingers held onto the branches with a death grip, knuckles turned white in rising fury.

"Remember your training," she chastised herself, as her glittering gaze focused on the branch that supported the swing on which Lady Ravella sat. "This is not the time to wish for the throwing knives Kai-sama gave you on your first birthday at the palace royal..."

"You should take more care in choosing whom to listen to in Court, my Lady," Crimson's voice was laced with steel beneath the warm velvet tones as he made his reply, his eyes dark sapphire flames as he swept Lady Ravella with distaste evident on his handsome features. "Lord Avedon Ly'valle and Lady Kyra Solaris were numbered among my friends; do not think I would seek to disgrace their memory or their daughter's reputation in the way you seem to imply."

Lady Ravella blanched at her first glimpse of the cold fury that Crimson Kai Sinks was capable of unleashing - the death-dealing capability of a trained sevalle that lay hidden beneath the polish of a seasoned courtier. She opened her pretty mouth to speak, but the words were stopped by a lazy, drawling voice filled with teasing laughter.

end part five 


	6. Chapter 6

Title:A Story for Dairve - 6

Disclaimers:As stated in Chapter 1.

Author's Notes:In which the High Sevalle removes the cause of the Lady Holder's *great* discomfort...

=-=-=-=-=-=

"Really, Crimson, I'm quite aware the Lady Ravella is considered a tasty morsel, but surely you needn't look like you'd enjoy eating her whole and entire." Scarface sketched a low bow before Lady Ravella, his cinnamon eyes glinting with amusement. "What on earth could she have said, to put that thundercloud in your face?"

Up in the branches, Shavra blinked and bit down a nervous giggle. Though still trapped above the little group, her heart sang upon Scarface Vy Low's appearance, and the feeling that all would indeed be well coursed through her blood. For indeed, though the 57th sevalle could tease Shavra to distraction on everything from her manners to her devotion to Dias Ragu, Scarface was as much her champion as the Black Wing.

To her credit, Lady Ravella recovered quickly, her lovely dark eyes flashing in response to Scarface's light words. "I was merely teasing my Lord Crimson about certain rumors connecting him with the Lady Holder of Fort Ly'valle."

//What a mercy it is that Faulstis is not here to see that look on Ravella's face,// was the instant bespoken comment of Shavra to the tree which continued to shelter her presence with its verdant foliage, //Else even my lord sevalles would be hard put to avert bloodshed. How *could* she, and my lord Scarface betrothed!//

Crimson replied, "I then felt it wise to caution the Lady Ravella on the wisdom choosing her sources of information at Court with extreme care."

"You must forgive his manners, m'lady. Our 56th sevalle is the keeper of all things proper in Kuruda." Scarface's voice was silky-smooth, considering that he had come upon the pair just as Crimson was delivering his cautionary words in the voice of smoky velvet that normally presaged a throw from one of his daggers. "Having known the Lady Holder of Fort Ly'valle since she was a babe in her mother's arms, she is a particularly tender spot in his armor of righteousness."

"Very well, my Lord Scarface," purred Lady Ravella sweetly, "I will indeed do as you say."

//One can only hope that you will take Kai-sama's advice to heart as well, and cease from idle gossip/  
Lady Ravella continued to eye Scarface in that manner which gave him cause to be grateful that he was pledged both in word and truth to Faulstis of Juliannes. Again the young woman purred, "I am truly fortunate, to be in the company of two such distinguished gentlemen."

//Fortunate you are indeed. What a pity I cannot say the same of the "distinguished gentlemen".// As if in reply, a determined little breeze gusted through the leaves of the tree, and the resulting rustling of the leaves covered Shavra's soft snort of utter disdain.

Scarface chuckled dryly, his cinnamon eyes meeting the cobalt gaze of Crimson.

"Alas, my dear Lady Ravella, I regret that neither Crimson or I can bear you company for much longer," he drawled. Indicating the palace with a nod of his head, his next sentence was directed to the 56th sevalle.

"The King requires our presence at the soonest possible time, Crimson. New dispatches have come in from Suluothan and His Majesty is anxious to discuss them with us."

Crimson gave Scarface a considering look, which the High Sevalle returned steadily. Shavra's heart thumped as she saw the younger man square his shoulders imperceptibly, and remembered how it was that the High Sevalle had come about his fighting name. After a long moment, Crimson grunted softly and extended his hand to Lady Ravella.

"My dear Lady Ravella, it would seem that our little interlude must come to an end. Will you be returning to the palace with us, Scarface?"

"His Majesty suggested that I give you sufficient time to escort the Lady Ravella back to her rooms, Kai," murmured Scarface, as Lady Ravella rose gracefully from the swing and slipped her arm through Crimson's. "I am quite sure you will not need my presence for that. I also assured His Majesty that we would present ourselves at his private study within the span of half an hour."

Crimson leveled another considering look at Scarface, and shrugged. The High Sevalle's face was, when he wanted it to be, totally unreadable. On this occasion, however, despite the blandness of his expression, Scarface somehow managed to project the air of a cat who had found a bowl of cream on the kitchen floor. Still, there would be ample time later to get to the bottom of the mystery.

"In half an hour then," agreed Crimson, and Scarface nodded, his cinnamon eyes carefully watching the handsome pair proceed down the pathway back to the palace. Once ascertaining that they were well and truly gone, Scarface moved back to the tree and looked upwards - straight into Shavra's wide-eyed amethyst gaze.

end part six 


	7. Chapter 7

Title:A Story for Dairve - 7

Disclaimers:As stated in Chapter 1.

Author's Notes:In which the Lady Holder's rescue is complete...

=-=-=-=-=-=

"You needn't worry, Shavra, it's perfectly safe to come out now," he coaxed, laughter evident through his lazy drawl. "They're well on their way back to the palace."

"Give me a few moments, and turn your back, please, my lord sevalle," came the breathless reply, and with a soft laugh, Scarface obligingly followed Shavra's instructions. Behind him, he heard the merest whisper of sound as Shavra climbed out of the tree, and when she gave him permission to turn around, he saw her with books in hand, and cheeks rosy with embarrassment. It was plain she was expecting him to tease her.

Instead, Scarface merely observed, "One wonders at your gift for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, my dear girl. Would you care to explain?"

Shavra sighed and told him the story, leaving nothing out. As she concluded the tale, she sighed and looked at Scarface. "How did you know I was in the tree at all, my lord sevalle?"

In his turn, Scarface told her of the events leading to his discovery of her presence in the tree. As he did so, he offered Shavra his arm, walking her down the path back to the palace. Slanting a glance down at her as he finished his side of the story, it was to catch a look of disquiet on the Lady Holder's face.

"Is something else the matter, Shavra?"

"I was wondering how to face my Lord Crimson, after all that I have seen and heard," came the soft reply.

"Merely be your usual delightful self, my dear Lady Holder," chuckled Scarface, his cinnamon eyes warming at the troubled frown that creased Shavra's brow. "Idle talk is a common thing in the palace. You know that."

"But...to be matched with Kai-sama in that way! It's embarrassing." Color swept up into Shavra's fine cheekbones. She turned her magnificent eyes up to Scarface, and he felt his breath catch at the beauty of her amethyst gaze.

"It's not so impossible, you know."

"My Lord Scarface! Be serious! Look at me, and tell me if you can honestly see Kai-sama waiting for me, when he has his choice of so many others!"

Shavra stopped abruptly on the garden path, forcing Scarface to stop as well and swing around so that he was facing her head on. His keen gaze swept her willow-straight figure from head to foot, and in doing so, he recalled a fragment of his last conversation with Faulstis. They had been discussing the Lady Holder's recent adventures, which Scarface found highly amusing. Faulstis, on the other hand, shook her head.

"She may be a hoyden now, Vy," said the future Holy Knight, "But in spite of that, King Iba Stola reports that she has a character worthy of her father. Like her mother before her, Shavra is a Daughter of Light. Someday, when she has come into her own, the power of Souma and the rulership of Fort Ly'valle will be hers. When that happens, Shavra will be a woman to reckon with."

"Well, my lord High Sevalle?" demanded Shavra, and Scarface smiled at the imperious note in her voice. "Do you see anything at all in me to attract the amorous intentions of the 56th sevalle, the Raze Reme known as Silver Sword?"

"Were I to tell you the truth, my dear Lady Holder, there would be no bearing your conceit for a fortnight," he grinned, and at Shavra's exasperated huff, added gently, "However, since you insist...I see before me, most truly, a young girl who will soon command the hearts of strangers as easily as she has captured the loyalty of Kuruda's sevalles."

"You are too kind by half, my Lord Scarface," said Shavra, mollified by the truth she saw in the cinnamon gaze. "I am not so wonderful as all that."

"Time will tell, Shavra. Speaking of idle rumor -- does the one about Kai settling his affections on Lady Ravella bother you overmuch?"

Shavra reddened at the sudden change in topic. "Surely you know better than to ask that question of me, my Lord Scarface. A student has no right to meddle in the personal affairs of her master."

"Which is not to say that the student is totally unfeeling as to the choice of the man she cares for most in all the world -- bar one."

"You know me too well," came the half-resentful answer, matched with a pout that made Scarface laugh. "It is to be hoped, most sincerely, that rumor will be proved wrong. As you have said, however -- time will tell."

end part seven 


	8. Chapter 8

Title:A Story for Dairve - 8/Epilogue

Disclaimers:As stated in Chapter 1.

Author's Notes:In which the Lady Holder's bedtime story finally comes to an end...

=-=-=-=-=-=

Dairve yawned sleepily as his mother ended her last sentence, his green eyes content in his freckled face. The stuffed rabbit fell to the floor as he threw his arms about Shavra's neck and gave her a hug.

"I'm glad Papa picked you over Lady Ravella," he murmured; and at the sound of Crimson's laugh, the boy turned a questioning gaze to his father. "Mama's *much* nicer, isn't she, Papa?"

"Of course she is," said Crimson gently, as Shavra rose with the child so she could bring him to bed. His cobalt eyes met the amethyst ones of his wife and the look that passed between them was not lost on the boy. "It was worth it, waiting for her all those years."

Dairve nodded, and snuggled up against his mother's neck. "It was a nice story, Mama...thank you."

"Sweet dreams, poppet," whispered Shavra, as Dairve closed his eyes. She watched Crimson press a kiss to his sleeping son's hair, and then her next words were stopped by the tender pressure of his mouth over hers as his arms embraced mother and child.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Much later, at Kuruda's palace royal, the assembled courtiers broke into hushed murmurs as the 56th sevalle and the Lady Holder made their way into the main ballroom. Notice was taken of Crimson's gentle hand at the small of Shavra's back; the rumpled state of her skirts and the dreamy expression in her eyes. Conclusions, correct and otherwise, were soon drawn, and were the food of speculation for days after the ball.

Halfway down the room, Scarface strode up to them, his cinnamon eyes alight with laughter.

"You're late. The King was about to send a search party to Fort Ly'valle, you were taking so long," he said, offering his arm to Shavra. "What kept you?"

"After all these years, now you know how it feels to be kept waiting," retorted Crimson with feeling, and with a soft chuckle, Scarface looked down at Shavra's face.

"Does this dreamy expression in your eyes, my dear Lady Holder, mean that another Ly'valle brat will be addressing me as 'Uncle Scarface' in the very near future?"

"Hush, incorrigible man," came the mild rebuke. "I need not explain myself to you -- not when I can see Faulstis wearing the same expression."

Scarface inclined his head, accepting the words with good grace. They had reached the King at last, and beneath his keen stare, Shavra swept into a graceful curtsy as the sevalles on either side of her bowed low in respect.

"You are late," murmured the King, gesturing for Shavra to rise, and beckoning a page to bring wine goblets to the new arrivals. "I trust all is well at Fort Ly'valle?"

"Quite well, Your Majesty," said Shavra, taking hold of a goblet. "My son requested a story before going to bed, and I could not find it in my heart to deny him."

The King's eyes twinkled, for Shavra's devotion to her son was well-known. "Perfectly understandable. What kind of story did you tell young Dairve, then?"

Crimson and Shavra exchanged a look, and then both smiled. Crimson's cobalt eyes were filled with humor as he answered, "It was the story of a princess in a tree, waiting for a sevalle to come and rescue her."

"It sounds interesting. And does it have a happy ending?"

"Oh, yes, Your Majesty," grinned Crimson, pulling his wife to his side. "It ends most happily, indeed."

end 


End file.
